Another Stark
by Average White Writer
Summary: Another Stark joins the game. Fostered at Starfall while his twin goes to the Eyrie, a Northern man learns the way of the Rhoynar. Death is playing a dangerous gamble.
1. Chapter 1

The half century had been lonely and to be honest I welcomed death as an old friend just as my ancestors had done before me.

Ginny, my wife, friend and soul mate, had passed on to the next great adventure just after she'd turned one hundred years old leaving me alone, again. In ways it reminded me of my parents dying almost one hundred years before: the people I loved most leaving me. But in others it was different. I still had Hermione, though Ron had past five years before his sister, and her companionship helped me through the troubling nights that followed Ginny's departure. Though Hermione passed on only another five years after that. The main difference was that Ginny and my other friends hadn't died to save me and for that I was incredibly thankful even if it meant that they died naturally instead.

Of course I also had my children: James, Albus and Lily. They visited regularly as their old man kept getting older. They juggled their own spouses and children along with checking on their father, little old me, which never failed to warm my heart.

But of course they had their time as well, and I knew this better than most. James was first only to be followed by his brother not a year later. Lily was still hanging on, though the wear of age was showing on her beautiful face. I was always told I took the death of my sons hard, harder than I'd ever taken Ginny's, Ron's or Hermione's. Seeing my own children die in front of me almost tore me apart, I almost started to envy my wife and friend's demise.

Even my grandchildren were nearing the age where most wizards neared their end and with Lily's passing just the year before I had never been or felt more alone.

Throughout the years I'd done many things just to relieve the boredom. After leaving the auror corps I was promoted to the head of the DMLE, I'd held the position for fifteen years before finally throwing in the towel. I'd been told I was a favourite to be the next Minister of Magic but like my one time Headmaster, I never wanted the job. Too much pressure and too much exposure to the media.

After leaving the ministry, I'd dipped my hands into the Potter's ancestral vault and bought myself a quidditch team. Puddlemere United had received a lot of media attention with my status as a former war hero and now ex-DMLE head being in charge and with that came extra sponsorship that allowed the one time middle-of-league-table to be able to fight it out with the best for the league title as well as european competitions. After a couple of years I gave up the running of the team to and let James and Lily try their hands at running the team, trusting the two of them to do what was right for the team and their family.

At the age of sixty, I decided to turn my hand back to teaching only remembering fond memories of teaching the DA, besides I was bored of my semi-retirement. I applied for the Defence Against the Dark Arts teaching post and got it with seemingly no competition. I taught alongside my long time friend Neville Longbottom, who taught Herbology, and my son, Albus who taught transfiguration. I was made headmaster in my eighties ruling over my son, as well as the students, who was the then head of Gryffindor house.

With Ginny's death, it all changed. I left Hogwarts leaving a recommendation for my son, Albus, to replace me as headmaster with the board of governors.

With no wife and my friends dropping like flies, I turned my hand magical experimentation. I became an animagus, an old species of wolf called a dire wolf that had long been extinct, I knew this would have made Moony, Padfoot and Prongs proud. I found a thirteenth use of dragon's blood, it could be used to stabilise magic around muggle technology if the correct runes were drawn with it. I created a variant of a quick quotes quill, that instead of being dipped in ink would be dipped into memories extracted from the minds of anyone who used it, with my design patented I was able to make a lot of money as people rushed to get a hold of one to write their books describing the lives or teaching methods. I created spells to disarm and bind an opponent in one action, to enable a wizard to take over the mind of a non-magical creature remotely and to give stone a liquid like consistency. The last of which my son and successor as the headmaster, Albus, had informed me that it had become a favorite for those looking to prank others within the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. I tried my hand at landscaping, reshaping the Hogwarts ground, making the black lake have cliffs around the far side, Potter Manor gained a river and lake, though creating a permanent water source took me a whole week to recover from and Puddlemere United now also had their own magical forest surrounding the stadium. I'd even come up with a hypothesis linking magical power and longevity of life which according to my niece and unspeakable, Rose Weasley, was a project she was leading the investigation within the ministry's department of mysteries.

But in the eve of my life I couldn't find distraction any longer from the fact I was missing all those I'd loved or to fill the never ending hole of loneliness no longer. And, with the passing of my beloved Lily, my little girl, I knew I had to leave this world soon.

Some people had hailed me as the next Albus Dumbledore, no doubt because of both of our work at Hogwarts and experimentation with dragon's blood as well as our fights with dark lords, though I never did think the comparison matched up for those closer to the picture. While I would always admired Dumbledore I knew the man had faults just as surely as he knew he himself had faults, and with these in mind I was sure we weren't a like: I really knew that I couldn't have made the calls the old man had taken in the wars and the peace time between them at the time, even if I appreciate them now. He earnt my respect, if only for his willingness to take the choices into his own hands and do what he thought was best for everyone, something I only learnt when I became head of the DMLE and was then reinforced by my time as Headmaster.

Certain things stuck with me over the years, but one thing stood right above them all: killing wasn't always the worst option, sometimes even the best. The aurors taught me this and it was only reinforced when my young family started to grow: I would do anything to make sure they were safe.

So I laid down in my bed for what I hoped would be the last time, hoping I at that I would at last be reunited with Ginny, my friends, Ron Hermione and Neville, my children, James, Albus and Lily. I bet they build a statue of me was all that past through my head as I drifted off for what I hoped would be the last time feeling myself shudder at the very idea of it.

* * *

I recognised the vast and empty the place I was now standing in but I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

It was the extremely clean, extremely white version - like even Aunt Petunia would be shocked, that's how clean it was - it was King's Cross station, or at least my imaginary in between life and death version of King's Cross station.

I looked around and found that, like before, I wasn't alone. Though this time it wasn't the bearded Albus Dumbledore I met from beyond the grave, it was a woman.

A woman I didn't recognise.

A naked woman I didn't recognise.

Looking down at myself I noticed I was also naked. Though thankfully I was looking as I did in my twenties instead of my pre-death one hundred and fifty two year old glory.

Now this wasn't particularly embarrassing, a reporter had managed a picture me in the buff when Ginny and I were on our honeymoon and by the next morning everyone from Molly Weasley to Narcissa Malfoy and Lavender Brown to Daphne Greengrass had seen my junk and of course this wasn't the first time I'd seen a naked woman, even if you didn't count my wife.

Both myself and my red headed lover found early on in our relationship that both of us had enjoyed a having a bit of a kink in our desires and the following experimentation in our bedroom. And with my own naked picture appearing on the front cover acting as an open invitation: Kinky experimentation was what we got.

I examined the woman more closely and found she was like a walking juxtaposition. A seductive sway of her hips classing with the business like expression. Her deathly white skin fitting strikingly with hair so black it reminded me of the endless void I'd reluctantly studied in Hogwart's astronomy classes.

I was intrigued. And no matter what she said next I had decided she was a much better bust than my last King's Cross companion, Albus Dumbledore. I had never wanted to see my old headmaster in his birthday suit.

"Umm, Hello?" I said questioningly, not really knowing how to introduce myself, people had always known who I was when I was alive, but stuck with the classic, "I'm Harry Po…"

"I know who you are." The woman said. "I've known you and waited for you for a long time."

At this point I was starting to think that maybe Albus Dumbledore in his birthday suit would have been better.

"You've always been a point of interest for me, you should know. After all we are so close." The woman said one corner of her lips curling upwards as she spoke of how close we'd been, which I did not only not remember, and I would have hoped that I would remember a woman who looked this good, but found the way she was talking to me incredibly creepy as well.

"I'm sorry but I don't recognize you at all." I said, taking a step back as the woman stepped forwards.

"No, I guess you would not." The woman conceded, her face falling. "We never did meet. So close but you never quite bridged the gap."

I still wasn't getting it and I had a feeling that she didn't like that very much. I blinked slowly hopping that my ignorance would be noted.

The woman sighed. I'd been noticed, YAY, I internally celebrated before realising that celebrating one's own stupidity and ignorance was an entirely ridiculous thing to do.

"I am Death, young Potter." She said.

Oh.

This was different; very different from last time.

I'd met Death. The ever present, unstoppable certainty that ended alls existence: and before today I thought I'd seen weird when Luna actually found a crumple-horned Snorkack in sweden.

"Soooooo, do you go on adventures a lot?" I asked, the old quote from Dumbledore, 'To the organised mind death is only the next great adventure, ringing around my head.

She wasn't impressed.

"No mister Potter, I do not go on adventures, due to the fact that I cannot take a physical form in the mortal plane of any universe." The newly introduced Death said, sounding only majorly pissed off that I would say something so stupid.

"But isn't Death always supposed to be a man?" I asked, thinking of old legends and pictures at Hogwarts aloud. They always showed Death, or Thanatos, as a man with huge black wings who brought death with a single touch.

This also seemed to annoy her.

"And why Mister Potter would I be a man?" Death said, her voice getting higher and louder, shaking with anger. "I do not have a physical form, do you think I was born, mortal? No! I simply existed, just as I always will exist and always have existed, just as fate and the energies that control the existence of everything just existed. There is no beginning. There is no end. I am a woman because I choose to be!"

I had realised that I'd said the wrong thing just after she asked her first question, which I took to be rhetorical because I didn't want to answer.

Instead of opening my mouth and possibly being more of an arsehole to the omnipresent Death, I kept it shut and didn't say a word. One of my best decisions.

"Despite, your inherent idiocy," I knew I should have kept my mouth shut, she hates me! Death hates me! "I have use of you." That sounded ominous.

"Annnnd what would that be?" I asked when she hadn't elaborated.

Her mouth started to curl into a smirk and I knew something not entirely safe or advisable was about to go down.

"I have need you. You are to be reborn into a new world, into a new family to change the course of this world's future events." Death explained.

Not really much information, I thought hoping by not speaking Death would offer up more useful tidbits.

She didn't.

Deciding I'd ask for information instead, I broke the silence. "So why am I going to… wherever it is I'm going to?"

"You're going because you are the only one able to go." She said.

"What because only I have the necessary skills to complete whatever you want me to do." I said, feeling my ego get a little bigger.

"No." Well that took care of my thoughts about being important. "You're going because of the pact made with the fates a long time ago. The pact states that only the person who could unite all the hallows could be reborn."

"So, I'm the Master of Death then, like the legend says?" I asked, maybe this will be good for my ego after all.

"Not really." Death replied. "That was more of a marketing thing, a more appropriate title would Death's follower, or minion if you prefer. From now on you go where I tell you and perform my bidding."

Nope, that just crushed it, I was pretty much Death's bitch

"By uniting the Hallows all you have done is sign your self into an eternity of servitude to me." Death explained, a gleeful look upon her face. "So from now on your my… tool, yes that's a good way of putting it." she mumbled to herself. "Of course I didn't need it to be you, every tool has it's uses you just have to know how to do so. Luckily for all, you're an easy tool to use." She had a shit eating grin on her face as if she'd won an Oscar and found out they were also giving her a lifetime supply of ice cream, which is a lot if you're immortal.

"Yay." I chimed in, sarcasm dripping from my words like the chocolate sauce she was going to put on that ice cream.

"Yes so anyway, you're going to be reborn any second now." Death said as casually as you'd ask for an ice cream from one of those trucks that play the annoying song which is also so good at the same time because of all the delicious ice cream it has to offer.

Maybe I was too hung up on this ice cream thing?

Death hadn't noticed my temporary ice cream thought induced mini-coma and was still speaking. "You'll be born into a country called Westeros. It's divided into seven kingdoms, but you'll learn the smaller details as you grow up. They speak what you call English, or rather you'll think they speak english, but really I've manipulated your brain a little so the different language works. You should also know that I've hidden the hallows and one other… item that I thought you would like for you to find, you should be able to find them before you have real need of them" She smiled at me.

I definitely didn't like her.

"Good luck." she said seeming almost sincere.

Everything went black.

* * *

It was dark.

It was hot.

It was tight.

I didn't know where I was.

 **UPDATED 25/5/16 FOR GRAMMAR AS WELL AS DEATH'S SPEECH**


	2. Chapter 2

Birth was weird.

Very weird.

Now babies don't normally remember birth and I think that's a good thing. It was… well an odd. I could feel the muscles of my new mothers trying to push my new body from her.

It was very warm, very tight, very dark and damp.

I could feel my tiny, stunted limbs being squashed against my body, the sides of my mother's womb and another body that I later learned was my twin. It wasn't painful more uncomfortable than anything. Especially after I'd got over the fact that I couldn't breath and what's more didn't appear to have to: a lifetime of conditioning doesn't go away when you're reborn apparently.

As time passed I felt my twin gradually slide out of our mother's womb as the muscles contracted around us, this was great as there was suddenly a bit more space and I, I don't really know why, suddenly felt the need to flail my arms and legs everywhere, exploring my new found freedom.

Soon enough it was my turn to be squeezed out of my mother, until this point I'd never been more aware of how inefficient the human body was. I mean the human body was made to make more human bodies, but why is the process so dumb? It takes nine months to grow a baby leaving the mother vulnerable and when it comes to the birthing it endangers her life!

Anyway, I was squeezed out and I came into the world.

It was loud.

Much louder than in my mother's womb and much louder than I remember my old world being. I then remembered that babies made a lot of noise when they were born, no one needed to remind me of how much noise James, Albus and Lily made when they each came into the world. So with the great power that is my mind I made a leap of logic that it was myself and my twin making all the noise.

My eyes were closed so I couldn't see my surroundings but I remembered that fairly was normal as well, not that it didn't annoy me. After one hundred and fifty years of seeing it's hard to imagine life without doing so.

So I forced my eyes open, going against what my natural instincts were telling me, only to be blinded by the relative brightness coming from the outside world. I quickly shut my eyes, instincts to avoid pain over riding my curiosity to see where I was.

Over the next however long it was, an hour, a minute, I don't know, I blinked my eyes open to attempt to get used to it.

While I was trying to see, I could feel myself being passed around.

I was held first by a pair of slightly rough hands only to attacked by an even rougher towel, at least I thought it was a towel but I couldn't see so it could have been a sheep's backside for all I new.

The person with the rough hands and the sheep then passed me to a pair of soft but slightly clammy hands, or rather hand. I could feel that I was being held between a hand and a woman's chest. Well a woman or a fat man, but given the circumstances I was going to guess that it was a woman.

The screaming had stopped, though I'd never figured out who was doing the screaming. I had a lack of control over my new body so it could have been me for all I knew. But despite this it was nice to be able to use my new ears properly.

And the opportunity presented itself immediately.

"Oh my beautiful boys, my beautiful twin boys." A voice cooed, close to my ear. The feminine voice felt like silk brushing against my eardrums after the incessant screaming of earlier.

"Our beautiful boys, my love." came another voice, lower in pitch as if the very ground underneath us was answering the woman's call.

"What should we call them, Rickard?" the first voice asked.

"Eddard, for our for-fathers." The second voice declared. I hoped I wasn't Eddard what a boring name. "And Harrold, a Lannister name for those Lannister eyes he keeps fluttering." That was probably me, if Death was pulling the strings in my favor instead of attempting one big prank to ruin my second existence: I definitely couldn't cope if my twin was called Harry and I wasn't, nope that would be horrible.

"Rickard, you know I've never lain with anyone but you!" The first voice said, sounding worried and scared.

The second voice boomed with laughter, howling like a wolf to the moon. "I know, I know my love, it's just uncanny how my son's eyes look so much like those blond lords of Casterly Rock. Maybe he'll have their talent for finding gold as well?" The voice broke into booming laughter once more, the first voice joining in with little more than a nervous giggle.

They continued to talk and I began to doze off. My body was tired, though I don't know why. Maybe it was all the breathing my body had to do now? Who knew.

"I'll leave you to get some rest, you've been through so much and you've done so well, my love." The deep voice said, the following footsteps and door slamming suggested he'd left.

"Get some rest, my sweets, sleep well." The soft voice before I felt her press her lips against my bald head only to hear her do the same to Edd, I'd decided I wasn't going to call him Eddard, Edd would do much better.

We were then passed to the first pair of hands, they were still as rough as earlier, and we were carried out of the room.

* * *

My early childhood was boring and embarrassing.

Being completely dependant on other people was horrible. I had to wait for one of my wet nurses, as I learnt they were called, before I would be fed or changed or just generally do something. I couldn't imagine what kind of person would off load the taking care of their child from my own experience with James, Albus, Lily and Teddy it was quite enjoyable. Though I tried not to judge my parents too harshly. From the wet nurse's gossip I learnt that my parents were Lords, or rather Lord and Lady, of Winterfell. So they were probably busy, I'd never been been a lord so I didn't really know.

I had also learnt that Westeros was still recovering from a war. The War of the Ninepenny Kings, they called it. Apparently a rebellion for the throne had dragged the entire continent into war. It seemed rather stupid to me, was the control of a throne really that important. The people were ruled by their lords, like my father, anyway. Was it really worth the loss of life?

Breast feeding was always a novel experience. I knew I had to do it, and my built in instincts agreed with me, I had to get nutrients from somewhere but that didn't make it any less weird. One of my wet nurses would undo the lacings of her dress, baring her breast and nipple only for me to clamp my toothless gums around it and suck milk from her teat.

Now I'd done this before; with Lily Potter in my first life, though this was assumed the question never came up when I was talking to Sirius or Remus; and with Ginny and our other romantic partners, though for those times I had teeth and was never for sustenance.

But now, in this life, I found it embarrassing. I was solely reliant on this stranger's breast and the milk she produced. And in order to get this miracle life giving substance I had to suck on this stranger's nipple. At least the last times I'd had the option to do so or had the courtesy to not remembering it happening.

Though this wasn't my only grievance. I couldn't move.

My muscles weren't strong enough to support my weight: I couldn't walk, I couldn't stand, I couldn't even sit without assistance. For the sake of the gods I couldn't even hold my head up: the muscles in my neck couldn't support the weight of my head!

I remembered, as a parent, it being quite funny watching my young children flail around as they tried to move. I didn't see the funny side any more.

* * *

I was soon growing and growing quickly at that. Within a couple of moon turns, they apparently used a lunar calendar here, I was able to pull myself around on my hands and knees.

Crawling allowed me to explore much of my home. Which turned out to be a castle, not a magical one like Hogwarts; no moving staircases, no talking pictures and no ghosts, but a castle nonetheless.

My voice still wouldn't work. My young mind and vocal chords didn't seem to want to work together. It was very frustrating. It was like I knew every word but with this new body everything had been changed. So instead of the complex sentences I wanted to say to my mother about why I should be allowed outside all I could produce was some scrambled baby talk.

I learnt that I had an older brother, besides Edd that is: Brandon. He was only a year older than Edd and I but he was already toddling about on his short stubby toddler legs. Our mother didn't let him get too close probably because Brandon had a habit of throwing his toys everywhere. He had a miniature stuffed wolf that had been repeated thrown against the walls and a stuffed Dragon that had unfortunately met it's demise in the fireplace.

Brandon looked very different to Edd and I, although he had hair as black as a raven and cold grey eyes that matched Edd's, Brandon was larger, in almost all possible ways. Though, I guess that was to be expected as he was a whole year older than us. However I'd heard Mother say that she was thankful that Edd and I were smaller as Brandon was so big.

Brandon had just started to speak saying odd words like no, yes, shan't, pony, sword and look. Mother had tried teaching him our names. He couldn't say Eddard or Harrold but mother had tried again with Ed and Harry: he couldn't say those either. Instead we were Ned and Rry. When our Father had heard he'd started laughing stating that he liked it and started to call us Ned and Rry as well much to mother's complaint.

Ned, as he shall now be known, was a quiet child but then I suppose so was I. Neither of us cried a lot; I didn't as I'd already lived through what I was going through as well as raising my own children but Ned confused me. As far as I knew Ned wasn't anything like I was, a wizard that had fallen for Death's manipulations, but it appeared that he was just a quiet boy.

We grew up fast, though that may have been my perception of it all. Having been a one hundred and fifty year old man less than a year ago and then suddenly becoming a small baby was disconcerting. All of a sudden I would have so much energy but almost as quickly as the rush had come it would go and I'd want to sleep.

Ned and I slept a lot of the time, maybe that was why it felt like everything was going so fast.

In almost no time, I was up on my feet. And then I was back down on my arse again almost immediately afterwards. This new body was different to my previous one and the balance was all wrong. Repeated falls taught me a deep respect for Tonks: her body was constantly changing, it was a surprise she was on her feet at all.

Eventually I got a hold on the whole walking thing and I began to explore the castle I now called home at a faster pace and from a higher vantage point. Or at least I tried to. My new mother really didn't like me walking through the perilous halls of Winterfell. Of course she wasn't always successful at stopping me.

Brandon had got bigger and was still causing trouble. Instead of throwing his toys around he'd taken to running everywhere, as fast as possible. Now while this was the main source of my mother's distraction allowing me to get out and about, it also provided quite a bit of entertainment. I could sit in our nursery and I could watch as a high speed toddler would race passed the doorway only to be followed by three, sometimes four, ladies dressed up in corsets and dresses.

Now on my feet I managed to get outside.

It was cold.

Like really cold.

Like I'm-going-to-die-it's-so-cold cold and this is coming from someone who spent most of his time in Scotland.

Once I'd managed to get used to the cold, or at least more used to it, I could admire the castle. Winterfell, while not as big or as grand as Hogwarts, was a large castle that was clearly built to withstand attacks from the outside. It's grey stone walls and towers were thick and fortified. I learnt that their were two external walls, topped with battlements, that were separated by a moat. While I didn't know anything about castle warfare I would guess that it was quite good. Though I knew I could just apparate in if I was attacking.

That was another thing I was yet to learn about: magic. The only mention of it I'd heard was in the tales Old Nan spun as she lulled Ned and I to sleep. I had thought that if I came from a family of wizards I would hear or see my parents performing it even if they were trying to hide it from their possibly muggle servants. But I saw and heard nothing of the sort.

After a while I found the god's wood and it quickly became my favorite place in the castle. Not only was it a strikingly beautiful forest, the stark white of the weirwoods and the blood like red of the carved faces contrasting with the duller browns and greens of oaks and beeches.

After what felt like an eternity of spouting absolute garbage I could speak. Course some sounds were weird, like differentiating between 'f's and 'th's, so my speech wasn't perfect. Honestly the common tongue was as ridiculous. And then I had to stop myself ranting at my parents or our servants when they spoke of White Walkers and Dragons and how they were extinc. They would never tell me why! I couldn't let them think of me as anything other than a very young and totally normal muggle boy, something I'd had lots of practice at but never quite perfected at the Dursley's. So I based my capabilities on Ned.

When Ned said his first word, 'snow' if you're interested, I said mine the next day. As we, Ned, learnt our, his, vocabulary expanded. Soon we, well Ned could now I'd always been able to, could identify each of parents as 'mama' and 'fa' and Brandon became 'Bradn'. Snow was still a favorite word of Ned's, and I picked out 'ice' as to be slightly different while practically doing the same thing.

And so the agonising process of learning a language began. Eventually Ned began to form basic sentences and I could almost return to as I spoke before death and this whole trip to Westeros. Of course I had to censor some of the things I said, I had to sound uneducated and silly, childish even, though that wasn't all together that difficult given that my voice was now unbearably high pitched, I could sing soprano!

Three years after my rebirth and Ned's birth our mother went into labor again. After almost a whole day and most of the night of pained screams echoing around the halls of Winterfell a new scream joined the chorus. Little Lyanna was born. And while at the time she'd had no hair and hadn't even opened her eyes yet out father declared she was going to be a great beauty who'd be as wild and striking as the North itself.

Lyanna soon began to grow and showed that their father might just of been spot on with his assessment. Se had the classic Stark looks: black hair, pale skin and grey eyes. And she definity was wild, no one questioned that.

According to many of the servants around the castle Lyanna was the loudest child they'd ever encountered. It wasn't uncommon for the small girl to scream into the night like a wolf howling at the moon which was made even more apparent when it was discovered that she calmed down when taken outside. As soon as she was big enough to move around she only became more of a terror. Though despite all the screaming and the trouble she got into she held the hearts of everyone that had ever met her in the palms of her pudgy toddler hands.

Another year after Lyanna was born and mother was at it again. While the labour period was shorter this time round, the birth of Benjen was marred by our mother's death only an hour later. The maester had said that she'd died due to internal bleeding that was caused by Benjen's birth.

The next day father gathered Brandon, Ned and myself and brought us to his study.

"Now boys, what happened yesterday was an accident." He looked us each in the eye in turn. "Your mother gave her life bringing your little brother into this world but you shouldn't blame him. To blame Benjen would be to dishonor what your mother dies for and dishonor your mother as a person. So you must love Benjen as you love one another, as you love Lyanna as between you all you keep your mother alive, not in body but in spirit. Remember boys, nothing is as important as family."

Father left after that. I guess he was also emotional at the loss of his wife.

I'd never really gotten to know my mother so it was hard to grieve and Ned and Brandon were too young to really understand the true meaning of death but I could feel the difference throughout the castle and I'm sure they could as well.

Less than a week later mother was laid to rest in the crypts of Winterfell after a service in the god's wood in front of the weirwood tree, her body resting in the alcove where father would rest when he joined her in death. She didn't get a statue like the old Lords of Winterfell and the older Kings of Winter but a stone direwolf was chiseled out and laid on her tomb. The wolf was lying down, it's muzzle resting on it's front paws as if it were asleep.

The next year passed quickly. Ned and I started lessons learning the basics of writing, they used quills here as well, the other major houses of the realm and military and political strategy. While I thought that Ned and I were too young to about strategy, father apparently disagreed though I suppose I could be thankful that he hadn't started us on actually fighting yet.

Lyanna had calmed slightly after our mother's passing. And while she was only one year old, they said she'd seen one name day here it's very peculiar, she'd had begun to speak. While she still ran around and got into trouble she did so less often. Even if she didn't understand, the absence of her mother was hurting her greatly.

Just after Benjens first name day father called Ned and I to his solar.

"Now boys," He began. "I trust you've been learning about the other great houses in Westeros with Maester Walys, yes?" We nodded. "Good, and I trust that you understand the importance of maintaining good relationships and alliances with the other houses. " We nodded again. "And do you know how to keep our good relations with other houses?"

"Marriage." Ned said simply, he had never been a boy of many words.

"That's absolutely correct, Ned, well done. Can you think of one Harry?" Father said turning to face me.

"Could you foster one of their children, father?"

He nodded as he stroked his beard. "Yes, well I certainly could but you forget, Harry, fostering goes two ways."

"Are you going to foster us, father?" I ask.

He smiled down at me. "You were always a bright child. Yes I am. Ned you're to be fostered with the Arryns at the Eyrie in the Vale and Harry you'll be going to Dorne to be fostered under Lord Dayne at Starfall."


	3. Chapter 3

Father had always said that a Stark must always be in Winterfell. And as Father took Ned and I to where we'd be fostering that honor was given to Brandon. The wild wolf, as the servants called him, was left to hold the fort and run the north in father's absence: I wouldn't have been ashamed to say that I didn't think I'd see Winterfell standing ever again.

We'd been riding for six days now and we were approaching White Harbor. It had been slow going despite our relatively small party. Though I suspected that this was because father had insisted on bringing Lyanna and Benjen along with us.

While I guess that father wouldn't want to leave his youngest alone with only Brandon and non-family members to look after them it didn't make sense to bring them on a potentially hazardous journey. Benjen was only about half a year old and Lyanna was only a little more than a year older than Benjen himself. But still they came with us, father and his captain of the guards, Thom, carrying the pair of young children in backpack like cradles.

The ride was long and the thrill of getting to ride my own horse, it was a pony really, soon wore off, I couldn't help but to keep on comparing it to a broom and how much faster it would be just to fly. Ned looked equally bored by the long ride on his own pony, but then he always looked slightly bored. Just as the servants had called Brandon the wild wolf Ned had become the quiet wolf. I hadn't heard of a nickname for myself yet and I guess I wouldn't for a long time now that I was being sent away.

I did try to be angry with father for what he was doing to not only me but Ned as well. Ordering us away, forcing us to not only spend time apart from each other but forcing us to leave the only familiar place we'd ever seen, forcing us to leave our family especially so soon after our mother had been taken from us. But I couldn't.

I couldn't be angry at the man who almost radiated sadness and regret. Mother's death had hit him the hardest, Brandon, Ned and Lyanna being too young to understand, Benjen only just a babe himself and, though I hated to admit it, I was hardened from a previous life of loss.

Of course I also saw the benefits of what father was doing. In this middle ages-esk world alliances had to be formed and Ned fostering at the Eyrie would make it more likely that the Vale would side with the North if conflict broke out. But this also pointed out the flaws in my own fostering. The Daynes of Starfall weren't a major house in the grand scheme of things, not in Westeros or anywhere outside Dorne. While they were respected warriors the greatest of which carrying the title 'The Sword of Morning' as well as the mystical sword Dawn that was said to be made from the heart of a fallen star, but that wasn't the grounds on which a fostering would usually be built for the son of Winterfell. I did try to ask father why I was going to Starfall but he'd managed to dodge my question so I was left ignorant.

So we kept slowly plodding along on the backs of our horses and eventually got to the gates of White Harbor. We were greeted by a group of people with a merman sigel on their breast plate, a soldier in the service of House Manderly the ruling lords of the city. One of them, a captain perhaps, spoke to father though I wasn't listening. I couldn't bring myself to care about what they were talking about.

We were led slowly through the city up towards New Castle and the Mermaids court that resided inside, all built in the shadow of the Wolf's den. White Harbor was busier than Winterfell but then it was also the most populated city in the North with it's bustling sea trade granting many jobs for the common folk.

Once inside the gates of New Castle we were greeted by Lord Wendel Manderly's son and heir Sir Wyman Manderly. Apparently the rumor that the ruling lord had gotten too fat to walk were not as exaggerated as I thought they might be. It was said that House Manderly still enjoyed the lavish life that was popular throughout the Reach from whence they came before they'd escaped to the North.

Sir Wyman greeted us, though again I wasn't really concentrating on what was being said, it was like every step we took towards the Eyrie and eventually Starfall the less I could think of anything else. What would it be like in Dorne, I knew it was very far south but how much hotter would it be. I didn't know how different the culture would be, even the North was a culture shock after I'd been reborn and the North was a very conservative society. And I'd heard the people in Dorne were… less conservative in their views.

It took a shout from my father to jolt me from my internal worries.

"Harold!" he had shouted. "Get off your horse. We are greeting Lord Manderly now."

I jumped down from my horse not wanting to anger father and started to walk alongside Ned a couple of steps behind our father. We walked through a pair of grand doors, guards standing at each side letting us pass without trouble.

Lord Manderly was fat, like really fat. I'd never seen anyone this fat in both of my lives. His eyes seemed small in comparison to the rest of his face and reminded me of my uncle Vernon's and cousin Dudley's pig like features. I zoned out while Lord Manderly was speaking bowing slightly when father grasped my shoulder as he introduced both Ned and I. We then retired to our rooms to freshen up before the feast that was being held in our honour.

"What's up with you?" A voice asked from the doorway. I looked up to see my twin, Ned, leaning against the open door with a concerned look on his face.

"It's nothing." I said trying to push him away before I said anything a normal 5 year old would say.

"No." Ned said, "You're sad." He'd never been one for many words. "Why."

I didn't know how to say this. How was I supposed to explain to him that I didn't understand why father was sending us away. I knew he was grieving but that didn't really explain it. Sending Ned to the Arryns sort of made sense politically but my own didn't make any sort of sense. It was infuriating and had been occupying my mind for most of the journey here. But how was i supposed to tell Ned that.

"I just want to go home." I told him. "I miss Winterfell and Bran and Mother and the godswood." I rambled on listing things from home that I liked ranging from the important to the petty.

Ned stood there all along nodding. When I was done rambling he said "I miss home too." before leaving.

I smirked while I shook my head. It was so quintessentially Ned that it was hard not to laugh at the familiarity of the quiet boy and his antics.

* * *

It was some days after that we landed in Gulltown and started the ride on horseback to the Eyrie. It took a week of solid riding before we got the ancient Vale stronghold. It was impressive, I'll give it that.

Built in and throughout a mountain, the Eyrie was unlike Hogwarts, Winterfell or any or any other castle I'd seen before. The only way up, if you weren't prepared to climb the almost sheer sides of the mountain, was up a small path that passed through three miniature castles. It was said to be impregnable but I wasn't too sure. You could, in theory it was possible to storm through Stone, Snow and Sky, the castles guarding the singular path up to the Eyrie itself but that was likely to cost many lives and take a long time. Again you could climb the outside of the mountain. You'd need a very dedicated set of men but if maybe two dozen of them made it into the castle you could take it. Though you'd need the element of surprise at hand and work silently but I believed it could be done.

Of course once I got to the top I could apparate there whenever I wanted to and I could tear the castle down myself if the notion took me. But that could be cheating.

"Lord Stark." A voice boomed as we finally got to the top of the mountain fortress. It had taken almost a day to climb the mountain and I'd begun to pity the poor small folk who'd had to not only build the castle but carry the raw materials up the side of this blasted mountain. "Welcome to the Eyrie." The voice of course belonged to the Lord of the Eyrie and Warden of the East, Lord Jon Arryn.

"Jon, it's good to see you again." Father said, striding forwards before grasping Lord Arryn's hand in a firm handshake. "It's been too long, too long my friend."

"The blame cannot rest solely on me, friend. I believe it was you who was busy having children." The Lord of the Vale joked but I could see in his eyes that he wanted children of his own. "I was very sorry to hear of Lyarra's passing."

Father smiled sadly at the mention of his deceased wife. "At least she blessed me with five fine children before her time came. I was sorry to hear of your own Lady wife's passing as well, Jon." Father said as he put one arm around the shoulders of the other lord. "Now let me introduce my children to you."

"These two are Benjen and Lyanna, my youngest two." He said as he gestured to my two sleeping siblings. "Unfortunately the days been a bit tiring for them. Then we have my twins. Harold and Eddard. Eddard is going to be the one you'll be fostering here." Father explain as Ned and I bowed to the Warden of the East.

"It's lovely to see that a legacy as long and rich as the Starks are still prospering and clearly in safe hands." Lord Jon said, "Now I should introduce you to my other ward, Robert Baratheon, future Lord of Storm's End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands."

A boy who'd been standing behind Jon throughout the introductions walked forwards. The boy was tall and stocky and must have been around Brandon's age. He walked with a swagger that I remembered from the pureblood heirs and Lords from my past life. He then bowed to father before reaching his hand out to Ned. "I guess we'll be like brothers soon."

This brought a smile to Ned's face, I guess he'd have been just as worried about this whole fostering business as I was and to know that he'd have a friend must have been comforting.

After releasing Ned's hand Robert nodded to me before returning to his place behind Lord Arryn.

* * *

We stayed at the Eyrie for a week before leaving. Ned and Robert quickly became fast friends and were running through the hall ways and courtyards of the Eyrie, causing trouble wherever they went in no time at all.

Of course this left me alone, but I was used to it. And besides it gave me more time to practice magic and play with my younger siblings.

Lyanna was just about stringing words together, almost forming sentences that made sense to anyone else. But it was clear that she enjoyed herself as we messed around with building blocks and her dolls father had brought for her.

We left with a hug and a promise to send ravens with any news. I suspect that my siblings my have cried if they knew what was happening but instead they gurgled happily in the cots. I didn't cry I'd seen too much horror in my life to cry at goodbyes. And besides even as we stood there, practically going through the door, Ned and Robert were planning their next bit of mischief and in front of the lord of the castle.

Well no one would ever accuse them of being cunning.

Another weeks riding and we were back in Gulltown and back on the waves but this time with a much longer journey ahead of us.

I personally quite liked sailing, the steady rock of the boat on calm waters helped me to think and the violent tipping in higher winds allowed me to get the adrenaline rush I'd begun to crave. Father clearly hated ships and Ned had on the way to the Vale going by the way they'd hidden in their personal cabins for the entire time at sea. Benjen was confined to fathers cabin but that wasn't a problem as Benjen could barely walk and was stuck crawling around. The problem was Lyanna.

Lyanna was toddling around at quite a rate of knots and, like Brandon, had a gift of getting into trouble. She regularly escaped father's cabin though no one had been able to figure out how yet. And then she'd do one of three things: fall asleep in a hard to find and potentially dangerous place; get into the store rooms and start playing with whatever she could reach i.e. grains, jars, fruits; run around the main deck while the deck hands tried to catch her while simultaneously trying to steer her away from the sides of the boat so that the only daughter of the Lord paramount of the North wouldn't charge head first off of the ship.

On the journey to Sunspear we had no less than ten near misses on the deck and twelve incidents in the store room and five naps in ridiculous places.

Father was very glad to finally go on to land.

We were greeted by the current Lord Paramount of Dorne, or really the Lady Paramount of Dorne and a small number of guards. Lady Tyene Martell had inherited the ruling title as she was the eldest of her Father's children whereas in all the other kingdoms her brother Lewyn would have taken the title from her, in Dorne the line of succession went in the age order instead of placing male heirs ahead of female heirs.

"Lord Stark, it's a pleasure to have one of so far north come so far south." The Princess of Dorne said. Her accent as exotic as her olive skin, black eyes and silk clothing.

"Princess, the honour is all mine. Never did I dream that I would one day set foot in Dorne." My father replied bowing before her.

"Come Lord Stark, we don't stand on formalities too much in Dorne, please call me Tyene." the princess said.

"Then I insist you call me Rickard, Tyene." Father paused before saying her name as if the name was foreign to his tounge. Which it probably was, you don't get many dornish people coming to the North.

The Princess then walks forwards and looks into the cot being carried by Thom. "Who's this little one." She was smiling as she reached into the cot to tickle Benjen.

"That's my youngest, Benjen." Father replied.

"Well isn't he cute. And who's this one?" She said as she squatted down to Lyanna's height. Lyanna had refused to go in her cot as we were leaving the ship and was now stuck holding father's hand.

Father looked down at his daughter, who was hiding slightly behind his leg as he smiled encouragingly.

"Lyanna." She said in a small quiet voice before ducking completely behind father.

Luckily the Princess of Dorne found the small girl's shyness charming and smiled back at the girl.

"And who may you be?" She finally asked me.

"I'm Harold Stark, Princess Tyene." I replied trying to be as polite as possible. I was unfortunately at an age where you expected to have learnt all the manners and etiquette needed to meet other Lords and Ladies. Of course I was allowed a few slip ups but I'd always thought that I should make the best first impression as possible and that unfortunately meant sticking to the rules laid out by highborn etiquette.

"Well, Harold Stark, mightn't you be the Stark that is soon to fostered at Starfall?" I could tell she was mocking me slightly but I didn't think I should react, a normal five year old wouldn't notice it and therefore I shouldn't.

"I am, Princess Tyene, I'm looking forward to learning from Lord Dayne." I said continuing my over use of titles and surnames.

"I should hope so. Not only is Lord Dayne one of my most powerful and loyal bannermen but the Daynes also produce the best swordsmen in the world: The Sword of Morning. I hear that young Arthur Dayne is hoping to become the next in a long line of fierce warriors, are you going to train with him and become a soldier just as feared?"

"I hope so, Princess Tyene." I said. Though in all honesty I hadn't even thought about having to learn about how to use a sword or muggle warfare, it was all rather alien to me after all my time settling disputed at the end of my wand, but then I don't have a wand anymore! Maybe I would have to become used to the idea of using a sword instead.

"Come Stark's, I will introduce you to my family." The princess said as she began to walk towards Old Palace. It was a short walk as we made our way through Sunspear, though it was still long enough for people to hear that the Starks of Winterfell were visiting. Tens if not hundreds of dornish people lined the streets trying to catch a glance at us northern nobles. I guess we were almost completely foreign to them. Our pale skin standing in distinct contrast to that of the olive skin that the dornish were famous for. Our wools and leathers were the polar opposite to the preferred silks. We must have been an odd sight.

* * *

 **Hello readers of Fanfiction,  
** **Sorry for the long wait between updates, and I'm even more sorry that I can't promise regular updates after this.  
** **However I hope you enjoy what I have written.  
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** **Thanks for reading**

 **An Average White Writer**


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't normally do any ANs at the top of a new chapter but I felt compelled to after the feed back from the last chapter.  
** **I don't ask anyone to read these stories I put up on this site and if you don't like this story then I can't force you to read it but leaving a review simply stating that you knew this story was going to be rubbish simply because I included "Don't like, don't read!" in the description is ridiculous.  
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Anyway, I hope you enjoy my next chapter.**

* * *

"This is my eldest, Doran." The princess of Dorne said. "These days Doran handles most matters within Sunspear, I thought it would help him before he himself becomes the ruler of Dorne. Though he has requested to go on a tour of the free cities in a couple of years time so I will have to resume that responsibility once more." She continued. Doran was a man of 20 name days, I really didn't understand why they didn't just say how many years old a person was, and was slightly below average height. He wasn't well muscled and didn't appear to have the wiry build of a man who fought with a spear so he was clearly was no fighter. Doran stepped forwards bowing to my father before stepping back into line. He didn't say a word.

"This is Oberyn, my youngest." Princess said, "He's going to be fighter, he's been begging me to let him start training but six name days is far too early for such things, don't you think Rickard?"

"Oh I don't know, Tyene, in the north we've always allowed them to learn as long as soon as they're able to pick up the practice swords." Father said.

And I did understand this bit. Practice swords are heavy, much heavier than a real sword. This was to train strength so that when live steel was used you were able to fight for longer, strike hard and all round fight better. It was also a good way of stopping overly eager small children from swinging around potentially dangerous weapons.

Tyene seemed to understand if the grin that had grown on her face was anything to go by. "Well said, Lord Stark. Oberyn we'll have to see if you're ready for training on the morrow." The little boy looked like he could jump over the moon he was so happy. Though I don't know why I was calling him small, in this world he was older than me as well as being a couple of inches taller than I was.

"I have a daughter as well, Rickard, but unfortunately she's ill." The smile from the princess's face dropped. "She's been plagued by illness from birth, it's a miracle in itself that she survived infancy."

"The gods work in mysterious ways, princess, she must have an important role in the future if she's beating all the odds." Father said, he was trying to be comforting he only ever really talked about gods and their workings when he was trying to comfort someone. "They wouldn't let her suffer for so long if they didn't have a purpose marked out for her."

The princess smiled slightly though it didn't really look like she was totally convinced by his words. "Come, servents will show you to your rooms and once you've freshened up we will host a feast in your honour."

The feast that followed was really nice. Well actually it was great. The spiced dornish food reminding me of the indian food I'd always enjoyed in my first life. Though the heat and the tastes being very different from the food in the North made it so that my father and siblings didn't like it so much.

To combat the heat father drank a lot. His large consumption of wine led to him being led away from the feast as soon as the food had been cleared away by the princess of Dorne. And if the sounds I'd heard coming from my father's room after I'd made sure that my siblings were in bed were anything to go by, father had a night full of passion.

While my father was caught up in the princess I went exploring the castle.

Old Palace was a fairly simple castle. Consisting of two main tower, Spear Tower and the Tower of the Sun. We were being housed in the Tower of the Sun in the rooms below that of the Martells. At the top of the Tower of the Sun was the throne room which was topped by a glass, I wanted to see it for myself.

So I climbed the stairs, and gods there were lots of stairs. I passed the door that I guessed led to the Martells private apartments and kept climbing. Most of Old Palace was made of the same polished red coloured stone and the way that the moonlight shone through the long slim windows made it look reflective.

When I'd finally run out of stairs to climb I knew I must have reached the throne room.

And I was right at the opposite end of the room were the two thrones that gave some of this room it's splendor. The thrones were almost identical, the only difference was that the throne on the right was inlaid with the Martell spear while the throne on the left had the Rhoynish Sun.

And although my calves were burning I walked across the room to take a closer look.

It was clear that the spear seat got more use than the sun seat. And I knew from the books I'd found in Winterfell about the great houses that the current ruler of Dorne sat in the spear seat while the sun seat was mainly ceremonial though was sometimes used by the consorts of the ruler. I could see that there were many marks in the armrest of the spear seat, it appeared as if they'd been made by a dagger being stabbed into the wood, maybe Dorne had once had an irritable ruler with a fondness of stabbing?

"Only a ruler of Dorne has ever sat in those chairs." A voice said.

I turned to find a girl. She was dornish, there was no doubt about that, but her olive skin seemed less healthy than that of the other locals I'd met. Her black hair didn't seem to have the same sheen as many of the female servants in the palace. There were bags under her eyes and her skin looked loose, as if she'd lost a lot of weight.

"It's a good thing I'm not sitting on them then." I said. It was sarcastic and rude, I didn't know who this girl was but at the moment I couldn't bring myself to care all that much. Really five years of hiding as a infant noble child was doing my head in. So much I couldn't say! And not just because of my age but my station as well.

"Princess." She said.

"Pardon?" I honestly hadn't caught her meaning.

"You're supposed to address me as Princess." She said and despite her being on the other side of the room I could she her roll her eyes.

"You're a Princess?" I really hadn't expected that!

"I am Princess Elia Martell and you are intruding within my ancestral palace!"

"I'm not intruding! I'm-"

"Well I haven't seen you before, mother hasn't hired any new servants recently. So you must be an intruder!" She was shouting now, her adolescent voice high and shrill.

"I'm a guest!" I shouted back, my voice annoyingly almost as high as her's: puberty couldn't happen soon enough.

She scoffed and started stalking . "Mother would have told me if we had guests."

"She said you were ill." I explain, she was clearly angry now and she didn't look like she adverse to violence. "That's why she said you weren't there to greet us."

"Who are you." She was standing less than a meter away, her eyes squinting slightly. "Don't lie to me, I could have you executed!" While I doubted that I would actually be executed particularly while her parents were fucking a couple of floors below us, I was going to be honest with her.

"Harold Stark, Princess." I introduced myself.

"Why would a Stark be so far south?" She was obviously suspicious.

"I'm on my way to be fostered at Starfall." I said, "Under Lord Dayne."

"Why would a northerner be fostered at a small dornish house though?"

"I don't know, father wouldn't tell me."

"Your family is here with you?"

"Just my father and my younger siblings."

"You have more family?"

"Just two older brothers, Brandon stayed in Winterfell and Ned is fostered at the Eyrie"

"No mother?"

"She's dead." I said coldly, I wasn't overly experienced with having a mother but it still hurt.

"Sorry. I know what it's like my father died a couple of years ago."

"You didn't know, it's fine."

She smiled slightly. She looked a lot better when she smiled the signs of illness fading from her face and I couldn't help but smile back.

"Your mother said you were ill, could you tell me what it is?" I asked but quickly tacked on, "You don't have to tell me I'm just curious." I didn't want to push or offend her, she was a the only daughter of Dorne and technically was above me, a third son, in standing.

She look self conscious, like she didn't want to tell me but also at the same time was internally debating whether to tell me or not to tell me.

"The maesters have said that I'm ill because I was born early, there's nothing they can do, I just have to be careful." She said with a fierce expression on her face almost daring me to make fun of her illness.

But I didn't. I wasn't Malfoy.

I smiled at her sadly, I couldn't really help her without revealing my magical ability and I didn't really want to do that.

But a girl's life hung in balance.

I needed to lie low and not bring any attention to myself.

Elia could die.

I could die if the wrong person found out.

Elia was nice, she could become a friend.

Sometimes I cursed my instinct to help people.

I walked away from Elia and the thrones and pretended to study some artwork on the walls.

"What do you know of magic, Elia?" I asked, hoping the familiarity of dropping her title would make her less likely to call me crazy and hear me out.

"It's dead." She said though the tone in her voice seemed questioning as if she didn't know where I was going with this but wanted to know. "The maesters said that it died out with the dragons."

I'd heard the same from Walys in Winterfell. "That's an odd thing to say, don't you think. How could something as powerful as magic just die out? No, I don't think that's possible. I think that the people who were able to use magic died out or became ignorant of their heritage. It's not like maesters ever taught how magic was to wielded! Maybe people just forgot how to harness it?"

"What's this about, Harold?" Elia ask. She was worried now, obviously because I'd gone of on this unrelated tangent that talked of forbidden and dangerous things now that I think about it.

"What if it's not dead?"

"What if what's not dead?"

"Magic!"

"Magic?"

"Magic."

"But the maesters said-"

"The maesters don't know everything!"

"But the train at the citadel."

"It's foolish to believe that everything that can be known is known."

"You think magic is still alive?"

"I know it."

This was my gamble, would Elia believe me? Would Elia be scared? Would Elia tell?

"Prove it."

I smiled. It was from the memories of Tom Riddle's early life I'd reviewed with Dumbledore that I got my inspiration.

The thrones caught fire.

Of course this was a gamble. So far in Westeros I'd only really managed to summon and banish objects, light fires and seal very small cuts. Nothing overly impressive really but wandless magic was hard! I'd never really got anywhere with it in my last life. I'd had a wand! I didn't need to be able to do magic wandlessly!

So this was risky. I knew I could set it on fire but that wasn't risk I was worried about. No the bit I was worried about was the bit where I didn't actually burn the thrones to sinders.

The good news, Elia was gobsmacked. I wondered if they used the term gobsmacked in Westeros, I guessed that they didn't but hoped I would be able to introduce it.

"You! You're causing this?" She sounded angry that wasn't the reaction.

"Yes" I replied, I was becoming weary now.

"You set the thrones of Dorne on fire?" Yep definitely angry.

"Yes." And I was definitely worried about how this was going.

"With your magic?" She spat out the word 'magic' as if it were poison.

"Yes." Oh I'd read this situation wrong for sure. Who knew that only psychopaths react well to you appearing to set their stuff on fire.

"You monster!" She cried. Her voice was shrill again and was worried that someone else would come in and discover my not-really-arson-but-what-quite-looked-like-arson. At least I was until she threw herself at me.

"No wait!" I cried out as she grappled with me. For such a frail and small girl she sure could wrestle. "It's not really fire, it doesn't burn them!"

I had to stop fighting to stay upright to concentrate on putting the flames out without relinquishing my control over what they damaged. And I did so successfully.

However it did give Elia the chance to knock me to the floor. Though she obviously hadn't expected me to fall at that particular moment so she fell with me.

"Hey! Calm down they're not damaged!" I said. Consciously aware that as she sat up she was straddling my waist and that we were both too young for this to mean anything.

"But they were on fire." She said simply.

"Well, yes but they weren't burnt!"

"But I saw the flames!"

"I created the flames but with the intent of not burning the thrones."

"Intent to what?" She seemed confused.

"A lot of magic is intent based, it will do as I want it to do as long I want it enough, or really if I ask it the right way."

She still looked lost.

"That's not really the point anyway. The point is I could help you."

"Help me? How could you help me?"

"With your illness, I might be able to make you better."

She snorted, not the most princessly thing to do. "Really?" She didn't sound convinced. "Lots of maesters hav-"

"I'm not a maester. I'm not limited by what is known and what isn't known." I broke in.

"You really think you can help?" She still seemed unconvinced.

"If you'll let me."

"And you're not going to set me on fire?"

I felt the corners of my mouth twitch up. "Only if you want me to."

She didn't seem to find me funny, which I thought was unfair.

She sighed. "Do your worst." Obviously her hopes weren't very high.

"Just don't panic, okay. There's going to be a few bright lights but nothing will hurt you." The one thing I really didn't need was her freaking out.

Now I'd never really got far with healing magics. I'd implemented a mandatory level of basic healing training for aurors that I'd taken to lead by example but aside from that and a couple of spells you pick up as a parent but I felt confident I could do something. It also gave me a chance to see if the people here had some kind of magical core.

Thankfully basic healing included as diagnostic spell. I knew what I was aiming for but not having a wand could cause complications and difficulties.

I focused hard closing my eyes as I started visualising what I wanted to happen.

"Have you done it yet?" The sickly girls asked.

"No and shut up I need to concentrate."

The girl huffed but I ignored her.

Focusing and visualising, eyes closed, once more, I reached out with my magic towards Elia. I felt it as it moved through her, magic learning her mind and her body.

I heard her gasp and I knew it had worked.

The diagnostic spell I was using created a holographic copy of the patient, out lining any injury, infection or deformity in different bright colours.

Elia's holographic counterpart was lit up like a christmas tree.

She had an infection around her lungs, which were also too small for her body to get all the oxygen needed for the amount of growth. As a result of this many of her muscles all around her body weren't very well developed especially around her abdomen and womb that could later cause problems in childbirth.

The only plus point I managed to find out was that Elia did have a magical core! Only it was very weak, similar to that of a squib.

Of course I didn't have the knowledge to cure her completely but from my limited knowledge I concluded that most of her problems were caused by her deformity in her lungs and that I should do my best to improve that.

Clearing the infection in her lungs, I believe that the doctors in my old world called it pneumonia, was easy. It appeared to be some kind of fungal based infection so all I had to reach out focusing on a particular kind of particle with the intent. Or at least I hoped that was how this was going to go down. I did think about the possibility of me losing concentration and accidentally killing Elia but quickly pushed that from my mind: didn't need negativity right now.

Once again I felt my magic weaving it's way through Elia, this time it felt hostile and volatile but I kept control seeking out what I sought. And find it I did. Getting rid of the spores wasn't really difficult, my power and strength of will overcoming any kind of magical resistance that the spores may have had.

Now the infection was gone I began to think of ways I could improve her lungs. I could make them larger, making them the size they should be and therefore making them able to take in larger volumes of air with each breathe and therefore get more oxygen into her bloodstream. But that could cause problems with her other organs and I didn't want to cause more problems and have to put out fires.

Then it hit me: Elia had a magical core! It was weak but it could help slightly in sustaining a spell over a long period of time. So if I was right I could magically enhance Elia's lungs I could make it so that the amount of oxygen would multiply twofold, maybe even tenfold of what she breathed in. This had been done for professional athletes in my past life but it gave them an unfair advantage.

Once again my magic pulled through and as the dornish girl's small magical core accepted the spell Elia's lung problem was solved, though only time would tell how long her core could sustain it and to what amount the spell would help her.

I couldn't really do anything about her lack of muscular strength but that should happen naturally as she's able to move around more. Regardless, it would be very suspicious if Elia appeared tomorrow looking like she'd been physically training for years.

"Done." I said breaking the silence. "How long did it take?" I asked, I hadn't really been aware of how time had been passing around me.

"Don't know but it felt like an age." Elia sounded bored, though seven year olds would be bored after standing around for a while doing nothing.

"Do you feel any different?" I asked.

"Breathing feels easier but that's it really."

"Good."

"Good?"

"That's all I tried to change."

"That's all?"

"Well everything else is kind of stemmed from your weak lungs."

Elia stopped talking as if taking it all in.

"How do you know all this?" Oh no. "You're, what? Six name days old?"

"Five."

"Five! You shouldn't know this!" This was getting bad now. "Who are you?"

Well the rest of my magic I'd called on, why wouldn't this?

"I'm sorry Elia." I said just before I plunged into her mind.

* * *

 **So one more note.  
This chapter wasn't really planned, Harry and Elia's meeting was meant to be much shorter but it kind of grabbed me and I ran with it and ended up going into more detail than I ever thought I would and researching about defects that can occur when a baby is born prematurely as it's said as Elia did. Of course it never actually says what Elia suffered from so please don't crucify me for making some stuff up.  
Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I will hopefully keep more chapters coming.  
Please leave any feedback you want to give me in the reviews or my inbox.  
An Average White Writer**


	5. Chapter 5

We left Sunspear after four days. In which time I'd become good friends with Elia and my father had become very well acquainted with Princess Tyene. To the amusement of most and the slight annoyance of the ruling princess, Oberyn could in fact lift and hold a practice sword and so began his weapons training.

I did feel slightly guilty about what I had done to Elia, it made me feel slightly better knowing what could have happened if she'd remembered. I'd become proficient in the mind arts while working for the aurors. It had taken years but I'd kept working at it and thankfully it had finally paid off. Occlumency was hard but it had opened the doors to legilimency. Whether it was for criminal interrogations or just knowing if someone was lying to you, legilimency could be very useful the only limit was how morally compromised you were prepared to become at the end. And best of all, legilimency didn't require a wand when dealing with someone with no training in the mind arts so unlike my demonstration with the not really burning thrones it didn't take any extra concentration or magical power.

In Elia's case I hadn't gone through her memories any more than I had to. I had to modify what she could recall about our first meeting. She now thought that I had given her a mix of herbs from the north that had cleared up her breathing not the most plausible thing but she was seven and desperate. Regardless, she could no longer remember anything about magic.

From Sunspear we traveled east, the Martells came with us but only as far as the Water Gardens. We stayed for a day that I sent playing with Elia, Oberyn and occasionally Lyanna. It was fun. Being carefree and innocent if only for the hours we sent mucking around, it was easy to forget about our brutal and ruthless world we lived in, forget that I was playing with a prince and a princess, forget that there were any problems that we would one day have to face.

Of course father spent his time with the elder princess.

But soon after we traveled on. Goodbyes were long, sad and imitmate in the case of my father and Princess Tyene. I did feel sad about leaving Elia, she was a good person but it wasn't the hardest goodbye I'd ever given. I knew I would be able to see Elia, I'd seen to the fact that she wouldn't die, not for many years now if I had my way.

As we travelled east we stuck to the northern coast of the arm of Dorne. The sea breeze doing a little to sooth the oppressive heat of the sun. We spent our nights in the sparsely spaced inns or if we were lucky castles of Dornish Lords or if we were unlucky just on the ground under nothing but the stars.

At least in Dorne we didn't have to worry about it raining on our heads while we slept.

We rode hard for nine days through the dusty Dornish landscape and on the tenth Starfall came into view. The Palestone Sword tower reaching high into the sky was the first thing we saw but as we got closer the rest of the settlement we could see the pale walls grow from the surrounding foothills of the red mountains

It wasn't as imposing as Winterfell back in the North or as grand as Old Palace in Sunspear but it was spectacular in it's own right. The pale stone that the walls were built of seemed to add a grace that the grey and red stones of Winterfell and Old Palace didn't have.

I couldn't help but be a bit nervous as I watched the purple banner of the Daynes fly over the top of the castle walls. Theses were new people, a new family to live with. And while there was still a part of me that was a century and a half old, this new body was five and I was limited in what I could do both physically and magically if I was threatened

We passed through the outer gates of Starfall, Dayne guards standing to attention as we passed them by. Our horses trudged through the streets where the smallfolk had settled outside the inner castle walls before going through yet another grand gateway and into a courtyard.

In the courtyard we were met by the Daynes.

Lord Dayne was easy to pick out of the crowd. Tall, broad and dressed in finer fabrics than almost all others in the courtyard. His wife, the Lady Dayne, stood to his left. On Lord Dayne's right were two children; the taller and only boy was probably Arthur while the shorter girl was Ashara.

"Lord Stark." Lord Dayne announced across the courtyard. "It's a pleasure to have you here in the castle of my ancestors. While you are my guest my house is yours as well."

"You're too generous though I would say maybe a touch too formal for greeting an old friend, Beric." My father replied a smile stretching across his sunburnt face as he dismounted from his horse. I followed his lead hoping that I wouldn't make a fool of myself in front of the people who will become my new family. Father began walking towards Lord Dayne and I made to follow him.

"Well, Rickard, it's not everyday you welcome the lord paramount of the North into your home." Father and Lord Dayne were only arm's reach from each other.

"Your eldest, Dominick, is he not here?" Father asked, so he'd also been looking at the Dayne children.

"Unfortunately not, he seems to be enjoying his time at Yronwood too much to come home." Lord Beric said, somewhat bitterly. "Even if the Lord Paramount of the North was visiting!"

"It's no problem, Beric. I'm sure there's a good reason for him not to be here."

"A girl more like." Lord Beric muttered back causing my father to throw his head back in laughter. I allowed myself to grin a little, a boy of five should probably not understand such things but maybe I could get away with an act of a young boy copying his father.

We were soon taken to our chambers inside of Starfall. The chambers I was taken to were far away from the rooms my father and younger siblings were given. The servant leading me through the unfamiliar corridors informed me that I had been given rooms in the family suit in the tower known as the Palestone Sword.

"It's a great honor." The servant had said.

Once I was inside my room I asked the servants who'd lead me there to draw me a bath so I could freshen up before being officially introduced to the family that will raise me until I become a 'man grown'.

Seriously some of the phrases the lords and ladies of Westeros were ridiculous.

So I bathed and picked out a smart tunic and doublet in the Stark colours before sitting on the bed, waiting for a servant to lead me through the unfamiliar castle to the hall where the Daynes would hold a feast in honor of mine and my father's arrival.

While I was waiting I thought back to Sunspear, back to when I first met Elia and how I'd used magic to cure Elia. I'd used up a large amount of the my magical reserves despite using Elia's own meager magical core to sustain the spell increasing the efficiency of her lungs. The biggest drain on my core was through the rearranging of Elia's memory. And while I had almost recovered while we'd travelled across the Dornish desert it had me more weary of being caught and having to change another person's memories knowing that it could leave me almost defenseless for about a week and a half. Though it offered a small comfort knowing I could do it if the situation really demanded it.

It wasn't long before there was a knock at my door. Collecting my thoughts, magic would only distract me now, I made my way to the door.

I'd expected a servant, who greeted me was very far from a servant.

It was Lady Ashara Dayne.

I hesitated for a second, not sure what to do before the lessons my mother had made sure I'd learnt before she died came back to me. I bowed slightly before saying "My Lady." I stood to my full height again though Ashara was still taller than me, maybe by two or three inches. "I did not expect to find you." I said, speaking my mind before I could stop myself. "Not that it isn't an honor to find the only daughter of Starfall at my door but it was unexpected." I said trying to catch myself before I said anything else without thinking. I'd learnt that the people of Westeros take their courtesy seriously and insults could mean war.

Ashara said nothing for a couple of seconds, tilting her head as she appeared to examine me.

Then she finally spoke.

"You're weird."

I almost laughed aloud. I often forgot how real five year olds spoke. How truthful and unforgiving they can be with their words. Maybe I didn't have to worry about courtesy with Ashara.

"Thank you, my Lady." I replied, she was confused but I wasn't overly bothered. I took this momentary pause in the conversation to study the young Lady Dayne.

She was slightly taller than myself but I wasn't too worried I'd been short in my last life I could deal with again in this one. Her body was lithe and thin in a way that I didn't think would last through her teenage years. Her skin was paler than Elia's but I would still call it olive coloured, particularly next to my own pasty white northern complexion. Her eyes, gods they were captivating. Her eyes were a purple but they seemed to never end as you stared into them. Constantly shifting between shades of purple in a way that reminded me of the geode that Albus had had at about the age my body was now.

"Come on, my father said to take you to the Lord's Hall." And with that Ashara took off at a run. Again I was reminded of how simple how the life of a five year old was, though something in the back of my mind told me Ashara was actually six, before I realised I would have to run after her if I didn't want to get lost.

So I ran after Ashara Dayne through the corridors of Starfall with a feeling deep within my stomach that this might become a common occurrence for the next couple of years.

I followed as she took corners as fast as her legs would carry her. Lefts and rights were taken at break neck pace as we attempted to dodge out of the way of unsuspecting servants as they appeared around corners and out of doorways.

The feast went quickly, the next week even quicker and before I knew it my Stark family had gone, returning to Winterfell and the north. That was if Brandon hadn't burnt it down yet. Father had been more subdued than he had for the entirety of the trip but held his emotions close to his chest, I suspected that he was trying to make it easier for me. I suspected that Lyanna and Benjen didn't really know what was going on but seemed sad to say goodbye, or at least sad to say goodbye to the playground that was Starfall.

With my family gone life at Starfall began to fall into a routine. I attended lessons with Ashara as we were a similar age, her being just a year older than myself. We learnt our letters, numbers, histories of Westeros and Essos and the great houses of the seven kingdoms, though we focused on our home kingdoms, Dorne and the North.

Ashara quickly became a brilliant and valued friend. She filled the gap left empty when I'd been left here by my family. She was energetic and reckless, often not thinking about any possible consequences of her actions.

She showed me around Starfall. Showing me the ins and outs, all the secrets she'd discovered, introducing me to all the servants she knew would give us anything we asked for.

We played games; Lords and Ladies, Welcome to my castle and tag. I'd told Ashara that tag was a northern game but in reality I remembered playing it with James. But Ashara's favourite game by far was stick/sword fighting.

Neither of us we're very good at it but Ashara was enthusiastic enough for the two of us. I was yet to be taught how to fight and Ashara would probably never be allowed by her father but that didn't matter when our blades, sticks, clashed in the heat of battle.

And that was how we ended up getting in trouble.

We were fighting and Ashara was winning. Being older and taller she had a strength and reach advantage and while I was faster I didn't have the technique to take advantage of that.

She swung off her right side and I tried to back out of the way but unfortunately was too slow and the blow caught me on my left forearm. And although it hurt I immediately began my own attack. I swung from my left side, both hands on my stick to get more power. Ashara's momentum from her own attack still had her turning away from me and my attack and I was able to strike her unprotected side.

Ashara yelped from the sharp pain caused by my stick but quickly began to attack me. She flailed blows upon me, from both her left and right. I did my best to block and while I managed to deflect most of the attacks but she did manage to hit me more than I would have liked.

"Hey!" A voice called from behind me. I turned to see who it was only for Ashara to hit me in the back of my head.

"Oww!" I cried out as I spun back round to see my smirking friend.

"You shouldn't turn your back on your opponent, Harry." She said. Like she'd ever done any combat training.

Being the mature person I'd grown through my past life to be I stuck my tongue out at her.

"That wasn't very lady like, little sister." Said the voice from behind me. Spinning around once more I saw Arthur smirking at us. "And you shouldn't be losing to a girl if you want to be a knight, Harry!"

I stuck my tongue out at the ten year old. "I don't want to be a knight, only the seven have knights." I protested. "I'm true to the gods of my ancestors!"

While, truly, I didn't worship any of the gods. Westeros, however, is a highly religious land with ancient tensions between those who followed the new and the old gods. Despite this, it would be more dangerous to my person if I denounced all gods all together. The old gods were the easiest choice to go with. There being no formal form of worship meant I could do as I pleased when the others around Starfall went to the sept to pray to the seven.

The old gods didn't have knights though, and while the boy in me mourned that loss I also realised that I would more freedom without the oaths that becoming a knight required.

To Arthur's credit he didn't react to me snubbing his life goal. Arthur wanted to be a knight of the kingsguard. "Knight or otherwise, you won't be a great warrior if a girl can beat you." the older boy shrugged.

"Hey! Girls can do everything boys can do and better!" Ashara cried out from behind me.

This was a repetitive argument between the Dayne siblings. Them both being very competitive led to some interesting situations: Ashara trying to pull back the bowstring of a long bow she wasn't strong enough to use; Arthur trying to stitch some embroidery into a formal doublet; either of them trying to sweet talk their mother into letting them try wine at feasts.

"Course they can, Ashy." Arthur mocked using the nickname he knew she hated. And while I agreed with Ashara I knew it was better to stay out of these arguments. "Come with me Harry, I'll see if I can get the master of arms to start teaching you how to fight properly so you don't get beaten by girls anymore."

And with that Arthur turned and started walking back towards the castle.

I turned to Ashara, she was my friend here and I knew Arthur was using me to get to her. But I did want to learn how to fight, it looked fun and being able to defend myself without using magic would be a great help.

"Go." Ashara said, she looked very angry as she glared holes into her brothers before her frown twisted into a smirk. "Besides you can just teach me what you get taught later!"

I laughed a small chuckle as I turned to follow.

I followed Arthur as best I could. The older boy was in a rush and had much longer legs than I did so I regularly had to break out into a half-jog to just about keep at his heels. I guess I could call myself lucky that Arthur considered himself to old and proper to run throughout the castle.

We got to the tiltyard soon. Some guards were drilling off to one side others were sparing or practicing with long bows.

Arthur had stopped, his eyes sweeping across the people present. He was clearly looking for someone particular.

He must have spotted whoever it was as he set off again. Slower this time, now he knew where exactly this mystery person was the urgency had left his stride.

"Doran, I think it's time for Harry here to start learn his way around a sword." Arthur said.

I looked up at the large man Arthur was addressing. He was muscle bound and scared, the hair on his head thinning as the hair on his exposed chest only seemed to thrive. He was missing his left ear which looked odd, removing any kind of symmetry that his face may have once had.

Overall, he was not someone I wanted to get on the wrong side of.

And right now he was looking me up and down. Assessing me, wondering if there was truth in Arthur's words.

He looked back to Arthur and in a low gruff voice said, "I think you're right m'lord. But I won't train him."

Arthur was starting to show the first signs of getting angry. "What do you mean you won't train him! He's the son of the Warden of the North! You should be honoured to be given the chance!"

The old sword master didn't look like the young lord's anger disturbed him at all. "You'll train him, Arthur." Arthur's mouth dropped open slightly, he couldn't believe what Doran was saying, and neither did I. "You've said on many occasions that you want to be the next Sword of the Morning and the best way to improve is to teach others."

Arthur looked like he didn't know what to say.

"I'll help you draw up some plans, a schedule that fits around your own lesson and Harry's and I'll give you some tips here and there but from here on out Lord Harry is in your hands."

* * *

 **Hey  
** **Hoped you all enjoyed reading this, I know it's been a while since I updated but I hoped you enjoyed this  
** **Hopefully the next wait will be shorter.**

 **An Average White Writer**


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